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"Ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing momentarily. Please bring your seatbacks to their full, upright positions and stow away all tray tables."
Scott McCall sighed wearily, glad the long, red-eye flight was nearly over. Having made the reservations at the last moment, he'd settled for the center seat on a DC-10, the most uncomfortable place on the plane. Such circumstances had only added to his already dour mood. Hopefully a few days in Los Angeles would cheer him up.
The New York Philharmonic was scheduled to play at the Hollywood Bowl two nights later, and Scott, newly appointed to a second violin chair, would be performing with them. The promotion should have put him on cloud nine, but instead he found himself mired in self-pity. His best friend and cousin, Nick, was getting married to his half-sister, Yvette, in less than two months. No matter how happy he was for them, he was equally unhappy with his own solitude. Sure, he'd had a few serious girlfriends, but for one reason or another, none had lasted.
The plane settled on the runway with a thud, and Scott gathered his things, eager to escape the claustrophobic atmosphere. All he needed was a few days with friends and family. Then he'd feel better and have his priorities set straight again.
As Scott trudged through the airport, he developed that uneasy feeling of being watched. He was about to check behind when he heard a familiar voice beside him. "Hi, Scott."
He whirled around, startled. "Mickey! Man, you scared me!"
Mickey Kostmayer smiled in his subtle, crooked way. "Old habits. Sorry."
The two men moved off to the side, out of the flow of pedestrian traffic. "Good to see you." Scott shook his hand. "It's been nearly a year. What're you doing in L.A.?"
Mickey shrugged. "Just a short business trip. I'm headin' back east. What're you doing here? Your dad wasn't expecting you 'til tomorrow."
"I thought I'd surprise him."
"Well," Mickey squirmed uncomfortably, "I'm afraid he's gone fishing up north with some of your relatives. They aren't due back until..."
"Tomorrow," Scott finished for him. "Serves me right for not calling." The younger man visibly sagged. "I should've known something like this would happen, but at least Nick and Yvette should be around."
"There're some pay phones over there," Mickey pointed. "I'll watch your stuff. Go on and call."
"Thanks. Be right back." When Scott returned a few minutes later, his face said he'd struck out on that front as well. "Nick and Yvette disappeared yesterday. Nobody knows where they were headed."
"They're getting married in a few months, right?" At Scott's nod, Mickey continued. "Then, wherever they are, they don't intend to be found. Come on, let's go grab breakfast in the spider restaurant. You can tell me why you have that 'lost puppy' look on your face."
"What about your plane?"
"I'll catch the next one. No big deal."
After claiming his luggage and storing it in his rental car, Scott accompanied his father's friend and occasional "business associate" to the LAX landmark restaurant. There they ate breakfast while Scott lamented his lonely existence.
Mickey shook his head. "Take it from me, Scott. Marriage is highly overrated. Women are great, don't get me wrong, but something happens to them once they have a ring on their finger and walk down that aisle in a white dress. Then it's nothing but mortgages, diapers and 'not tonight, honey, I have a headache.' It's the only legalized form of slavery left. Consider yourself lucky to still have your freedom. Don't be in such a hurry to end it."
Sighing, Scott continued to push his scrambled eggs about the plate with his fork. "It's not just that. I feel like I'm having some sort of mid-life crisis, and I'm only 29. All my relatives do something important with their lives. Either they're lawyers, or astronauts or P.I.'s or doctors, or... like you and Dad, whatever that means. What do I do? I play the violin."
"High school kids 'play' the violin, Scott. You have a gift, and you've worked damn hard to develop it. You tellin' me you're ready to trade in your bow for a semi-automatic or scalpel?"
"No," he admitted. "I don't really know what I mean. It just seems like something's missing, and until I figure out what it is, I won't be happy."
"Well, I hope you figure it out, then. Maybe you just need to pick up some pretty blonde and cut loose for a couple days. Get it outta your system, whatever 'it' is."
"Yeah, maybe," responded Scott, not sounding convinced. "Anyway, thanks for letting me bend your ear. I guess I'll go over to UCLA... see if Aunt Rose is still there."
"She's the doctor, isn't she?" asked Mickey.
"Yeah. She's teaching at the medical school, too."
"Well, take it easy, and stay out of trouble."
Scott laughed sarcastically. "Don't worry. The biggest risk I face these days is dying of boredom."
Scott pulled into a space in the visitor's parking lot and walked into the hospital. He checked the directory to be certain Dr. Rose Michaels' office was still where he remembered it being.
"I'm sorry, Mr. McCall," her assistant responded. "Dr. Michaels was just called down to E.R. You can wait if you like."
"Thanks. I think I'll just wander a little." He roamed about the hospital corridors, eventually finding himself in the bedlam known as the Emergency Room. Nurses and doctors rushed to and fro, barking out orders to each other and a few hassled orderlies. In vain he searched for his aunt's familiar face. Deciding she was either in one of the examination rooms or had returned to her office, he turned to go.
That's when all hell broke loose.
Gunshots, screams, and people running in every direction turned the already chaotic atmosphere into one of hysteria. Instinct told him to do the smart thing and get out of there as quickly as possible, but the thought of his aunt being nearby and possibly in danger overrode his initial impulse.
Then he saw the officer lying on the floor, a red stain spreading quickly on his chest.
"You!"
Scott raised his eyes from the cop to see the muzzle of a pistol aimed directly at his own chest.
"Yeah, you! Move and die!" His Hispanic accent was thick, but Scott didn't need a translator to know he was in a lot of trouble.
"We're trapped, Paco! What're we gonna do? You shot a cop, man! They're gonna waste us!" Another young man, dressed in the same color jacket and cap, nervously waved a five-inch blade around.
"Shut up, Manny. Get the pig's gun and cover us," the first gunman growled to his fellow gang member, his murderous gaze never leaving Scott. "Lock that door behind you," he ordered.
Carefully, keeping his hands in Paco's sight at all times and moving as slowly as he dared, Scott turned and figured out how to secure the sturdy doors separating the E.R. from the rest of the hospital.
"In there," Paco gestured toward one of the examining rooms. "Move!"
Inside, Scott found he wasn't the only hostage. Yet another member of the gang stood behind a young female doctor, a scalpel held at her throat. Scott was shoved against a wall and frisked. "He's clean," Paco announced. "The cop's dead. Everybody else got out, but now we're stuck in here and Manuel's losin' his nerve."
"Check around, then keep an eye on Manny. Ain't no way I'm goin' back to jail. We're gettin' outta here."
"How, Jose? Manny's right. Every cop in L.A.'s on his way here. How we gonna get out?"
"We got our tickets right here. Go."
Paco left and Jose turned his attention to Scott. "What's your name?"
"Scott."
"Scott," Jose repeated. "Hey, Scott, you ready to die?"
"Not really."
"Good. Don't make no trouble an' maybe I'll let you live."
The door opened and Paco came in. Scott felt his heart skip a beat as he saw who it was the man was escorting. It was Rose. She carried a young girl in her arms. "Look what I found next door," Paco announced.
The little girl's face was buried in Rose's neck, her tiny arms nearly strangling the experienced pediatrician. "I want my mommy!" she wailed.
"Shut that kid up!" Paco shoved her.
"She's terrified, and your shouting isn't helping matters," Rose replied calmly. "Ssh, honey." She bounced the child in her arms. "It's gonna be okay. Your mommy will be here soon." Her gaze fell on Scott, and her eyes grew wide with surprise. "Scott!" she exclaimed. "What...?"
"Quiet!" Jose ordered. "Paco, make sure this is everybody. You," he indicated Rose, "get over there by your friend and keep your mouth shut and the kid's, too, if you know what's good for you." He finally released the young resident, pushing her over next to Scott. "Do what I say and nobody gets hurt."
"You have the three of us," Rose pointed out. "Let the little girl go. You don't need her. She'll be more trouble than she's worth as a hostage."
"I decide what she's worth," corrected Jose. "Paco!"
The door burst open. "Yeah, man, I'm right here. Ain't nobody else but these guys. The phone's ringing at the nurse's station. You want I should answer it?"
"You stay here, watch 'em. I'll get it."
Scott and his aunt exchanged looks, wishing they could talk. He then turned back to Paco, whose attentions were focused on the young woman at Scott's other side. She looked up at him, and he couldn't help noticing for the first time how strikingly beautiful she was. Her light brown hair held golden highlights, falling in soft waves to her shoulders, and her dark brown eyes set off a perfect, California-tanned complexion. She couldn't have been much taller than five feet but though slight of stature, she held herself with confidence and dignity. He gave her a small smile of encouragement and resolved to protect her if the need arose. He made a living playing the violin, but he was also Robert McCall's son. Besides, you couldn't be a member of the Michaels clan without knowing how to handle yourself in a scrape.
Jose returned. "Cops outside wanna talk to you," he told his hostages. "You tell 'em your name and tell 'em you're feeling fine, and maybe you'll stay that way."
Mickey sat in the airport lounge, waiting for his delayed flight to start boarding and passing the time by watching a baseball game on the television. He groaned as the game was interrupted by a special news bulletin.
"We're here outside the UCLA Medical Center, where a hostage drama is unfolding even as we speak. Details are still sketchy, but it's believed one L.A.P.D. officer is seriously wounded inside. He and his partner brought a known gang leader, Jose Zapata, in for treatment of minor cuts and lacerations. The young man was under arrest for murder in connection with a gang-related execution which happened only hours ago."
"Witnesses say two armed men attempted to free him from custody. A gun battle ensued, and several innocent bystanders received minor wounds. One of the officer's involved made it out alive with a bullet in his arm. The fate of the other is still unknown."
"I'm here with Lieutenant Ben Carroll of the homicide division," the reporter continued as the camera backed off to reveal a tall dark-haired man beside her. "Lieutenant, how many people are being held? Do you have any names?"
"There are four civilian hostages. One is a five year old girl. Two are doctors, and the third is a male, probably in his late twenties. I can't release their names at this time."
"What about the wounded officer?" the reporter asked. "Is he alive?"
"We just don't know. If you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. There you have it. At least three suspects are known to be inside with four hostages, one a small child. In addition, nothing more is known about the remaining policeman."
As the reporter identified herself and turned control back to the newsroom, Mickey swore under his breath and grabbed his carry-on. Some instinct told him Scott was in the middle of that mess. Problems like this happened on a regular basis around McCall's relatives. If his suspicions were correct, Scott needed his help.
"You sure 'bout this?" asked Manny. "They ain't gonna charge in here if we keep the kid."
Jose glared at his younger companion. "I make the decisions, and I say she goes. Kid's too much hassle." He nodded to Rose. "Send her out, but don't try anything."
The girl continued to cling to Rose. "I want my Mommy," she sniffed for the thousandth time.
"Your mommy is waiting for you outside, Sweetheart," Rose told her. "Can you be a big girl and go meet her all by yourself?"
The promise of seeing her mother again brought a timid smile to her small lips. "Okay."
"Good girl. Just follow the sidewalk out to the cars." She set her down and Jose opened the door, careful to stay out of sight.
At first the girl walked uncertainly out into the sunshine, intimidated by all the police cars and strange faces staring at her. Then she heard her mother frantically call her name, and she ran as quickly as her tiny legs could carry her, to safety behind the protection of the automobiles.
"Thank you," Rose said simply to Jose.
"Don't thank me yet, Doc. It ain't over." He shoved her back into the examination room where Scott and the other doctor were being watched by Paco. A haphazard search through drawers and cabinets produced bandage rolls which Jose used to tie up his hostages. "There. They ain't goin' nowhere," he announced as he finished tying Rose's ankles together. Then he and Paco both left, leaving the three alone for the first time.
"Scott, what on earth are you doing here?" Rose asked.
"It's a long story, Aunt Rose. Right now we have to concentrate on getting out."
"You're Dr. Michaels' nephew?" the young resident beside him asked.
"I'm sorry, Lia," Rose apologized. "This is Scott McCall. Scott, this is Dr. Michaela Cord, our best second year resident on staff."
Michaela smiled a bit self-consciously at Scott. "Nice to meet you. Most people call me Lia. It's short for Amelia, my middle name."
He grinned back. "Nice to meet you. Call me Scott."
Her smiled widened. "Looks like you have bad timing for family visits."
"Does your father know you're here?" Rose interrupted. He and Dad went up to Mammoth Lakes a couple of days ago for some fishing. I didn't think he was planning to get back until tomorrow."
"I wanted to surprise him. So, no, he doesn't know I'm here. I just got into town a few hours ago." Scott knew why his aunt had asked the question. He'd have felt a lot better himself, if he knew his dad, an ex-government agent, was out there working to rescue them. Even Mickey would be somewhere over the Rockies by now. If they were going to get out in one piece, they would have to rely on the police and themselves. "What exactly happened, anyway?"
"Just your run-of-the-mill gang trying to free their leader from custody," replied Lia with a shake of her head. "Jose shot another kid in some turf war. The police brought him in so I could patch up the knife wound. I'd just finished when his two buddies burst in." She looked at her companions. "Is the officer really dead?"
Scott nodded. "You knew him?"
"No, but my younger brothers are both rookies on the force. He could have been one of them," she finished quietly.
All too familiar with loving someone in a dangerous profession, Scott tried to reassure her. "Don't worry," he said confidently. "It'll be okay." The promise sounded lame even to his ears.
"We need a scalpel," Lia announced suddenly. Scott gave her a quizzical look.
"Just because I'm a woman, don't get the idea I'm going to tremble and whimper through this mess." Using her feet to brace herself against the wall, she pushed herself up to a standing position. "I think I can make it over to the sterile packs."
"What if they come back?" Scott asked, clumsily trying to follow her lead. He hated having a girl act faster than he had, and the thought of what the punks might do to her if they caught her, made him wish she wasn't quite so impetuous.
She took a couple of hops toward the other side of the room. With her ankles tied together, it was difficult to keep her balance.
"Maybe Scott's right, Lia," Rose prompted. "The police will handle this."
Lia shook her head. "By now the ACLU is out there reminding the L.A.P.D. to protect the civil rights of those so-called 'kids.' Every officer will be too afraid of a suspension or an internal affairs investigation to act fast." A few more jumps put her next to the counter.
"Speed isn't everything." Scott moved closer to the doorway with a couple hops of his own. "Usually it's best to stop and think things through."
"Right," Lia replied sarcastically. "You saw how those guys were looking at me. If you were in my shoes, you'd be doing exactly what I'm doing." She turned and pulled a drawer open with her hands. A few seconds later, she grinned. "Got it. One scalpel coming up."
"Do your brothers know how cynical you are about the police?" asked Scott, wondering if she might just get herself loose after all.
"Don't get me wrong," she said, a bit softer. "My mother was a police detective, and my cousin's in charge of the homicide division. I have the greatest respect for them all." Her body shifted while she spoke, as she struggled with her bonds. "It's just that I have first-hand knowledge of how hamstrung they are by the politicians. I guarantee there are at least half a dozen city councilmen out there expressing outrage and sadness, all angling for the most air time tonight on the evening news."
"Lia, be careful," Rose cautioned.
Her arms jerked free as bandages fell to the floor. She held up the scalpel triumphantly. "Bingo," she whispered. She quickly freed Scott's hands as well before turning her attention to her bound ankles.
"Now what?" asked Rose as Scott freed her. "They still have guns, and we don't. They're liable to be back any minute."
Lia looked hopefully at Scott, open for suggestions herself. "I don't suppose you're a black belt?" she asked rhetorically.
"Concert violinist," he corrected. "I could lull them to sleep, if I had my violin," he offered with a light touch of humor.
"Scott plays for the New York Philharmonic," Rose announced proudly, rubbing her wrists.
"Can we swap resumes later?" Scott asked self-consciously. "We really do need a plan," he reminded them. He looked up at the light fixture, then quietly jumped up on the table to remove the fluorescent bulbs.
"What are you doing?" Lia asked dubiously.
"Giving us a split second advantage when they come back. Our eyes will adjust to the small amount of light leaking beneath the door."
Rose nodded with a smile. "It must run in the family."
Scott gave her a crooked grin, just before he plunged the room into darkness.
"Careful," Lia warned, reaching out to touch his leg. "Grab my hand to steady yourself while you climb down."
Scott was surprised by the strength and confidence in her grip. He managed to get off safely and found himself hesitating before releasing his hold on her. "Thanks," he said quietly, wondering if he imagined a reluctance on her part to break the contact as well.
"When we get out of here, I want to hear you play, and I promise you won't lull me to sleep."
"Now what?" Rose asked, reminding them both to keep their minds on their predicament.
"Now we get in a position to jump them when they return. Aunt Rose, I think I saw a pair of crutches in the corner."
"Yes, you did," Lia agreed.
"Can you see well enough yet to go get them?" Scott asked.
"I think so." Carefully, Rose began moving in that direction.
"What do you want me to do?" Lia asked.
"Can you handle a gun?"
"Where am I supposed to get one?"
"From whoever comes through that door first," Scott answered. "Can you?"
"Yes." There was a twinge of apprehension in her voice.
"Lia, if you'd rather not, being a doctor and all, it's okay," he assured her.
"No." She sounded more sure. "My mother taught me to shoot. I can handle it."
"Good. Stand over here behind me. Your job is to watch for that gun and get your hands on it as quickly as you can, any way you have to."
"I understand," she said firmly.
"Scott, I have the crutches," Rose whispered beside him.
"Here, give me one." They were all able to see passably by then. Scott waved his aunt to the other side of the door. "I'll take the first guy." Scott gave a partial swing of the crutch downward, where it would strike the shin of their captor. "If he's not alone, Aunt Rose, I need you to be ready to distract the second guy long enough for Lia to get that gun. You'll have to put all your weight behind it. Okay?"
"It's a good plan, Scott," Lia encouraged.
"I don't know if it's good or not, but it's the best I can do for right now," he replied. "Lia." He partially turned to her. "If you have to pull the trigger, shoot to kill. These guys are cop killers. They don't have much to lose, if you know what I mean."
"I do. I'm not crazy about taking a life, but I'm less crazy about losing my own."
Even in the dim light, Scott saw gritty determination in her expression and felt confident she'd handle herself just fine. They all got in position, listening for footsteps.
At least ten minutes passed before they heard someone approaching. "Get ready," hissed Scott, tensing.
The door swung open and a form stepped inside. Scott swung with all his might and was rewarded with a solid connection. The man went down hard with a cry of surprise and pain.
Mickey worked his way through the crowd of on-lookers until he reached the yellow police line cordoning off the immediate area surrounding the hospital. As he watched the officers, uninformed and not, milling about the area, he quickly found the man he'd seen on the news report. He ducked beneath the strip of yellow plastic and made a bee-line for him.
A young rookie assigned to crowd control rapidly intercepted Mickey. "Sir, please step back behind..." He stopped as Mickey flipped open his government I.D. The officer faltered a moment, then stood his ground. "This is hardly a federal matter, yet."
"One of my men may be in there." Mickey stretched the truth. "That makes it my business." He brusquely stepped past and continued toward his destination.
"A couple of doctors saw the officer take the bullet, Sir. They don't believe he survived." Ben Carroll, the man Mickey wanted to speak with, was on the phone. He eyed Mickey with a mixture of curious annoyance. "No, Sir, we don't have any reports that anyone else has been harmed. I recommend we stall for time and let everyone calm down. Their leader is too keyed up right now. If we storm the place, we'll have three dead hostages on our hands." The tall, dark-haired man's posture relaxed with relief. "Thank you, Sir. Yes, I'll keep you informed." He hung up the phone and growled at Mickey. "Who let you in here?"
"I did." Mickey showed his badge. "Is Scott McCall the young man in there?"
The lieutenant's eyes narrowed. "We haven't released that information. Where'd you get it?"
"Name's Kostmayer," Mickey said, ignoring the query. "You in charge?"
"For the moment. I'm Lieutenant Ben Carroll. Call me Lieutenant."
"Okay... Lieutenant. Help me figure a way into that hospital."
Ben looked at him with a cockeyed eyebrow. "Just like that? Look, Mr. Kostmayer, I have a job to do, and you're wasting my time." Ben tried to brush past him, but Mickey stepped in his way. "Scott and I have worked together. If I can get in there..."
"This Scott is a Fed, too?" Ben asked.
Mickey hesitated. "Not exactly, but he'll do in a pinch."
The man pulled Mickey away from the nearby officers. "One of the hostages is a young doctor who happens to be my cousin. I will not endanger her life so you can play war games."
"Lieutenant?" A blond woman called, holding her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. "It's them."
"Thanks, Nora. This is Carroll," Ben said into the phone, signalling those around him to keep the noise down. "Jose, let's talk this out... Okay, okay. What do you want?" He took out a small notepad from his jacket and began scribbling. "Sure, no problem. I'll send someone right away, but it'll take time to get to Culver City and back. Why don't we use that time to figure a way out..." Ben grimaced, then gave the receiver a dirty look before slamming it down. "Portillo!" he yelled, beckoning an officer over. "He wants a dozen tacos and three burritos from Titos on Washington. Take care of it."
Mickey heard his chance and stepped up to Ben. "Let me take them in."
"You still here?" he asked, annoyed. "Will someone escort this guy out of here?" he demanded of no one in particular.
"I'd like to hear your plan, if it's so brilliant," Mickey jabbed.
"My plan does not include rushing in there. Time is on our side."
"I thought you said your cousin was in there. How much time do you figure she has? Their next demand will be an escape route, which you can't give them because they're cop killers. Any way you look at this, your way ends in a gunfight at the E.R. corral."
Lia watched as the man fell, and her eyes locked on the gun in his hand. With a singular purpose, she dove for it, but it skittered across the floor out of her reach and she had to scramble after it, muttering something extremely unladylike.
As soon as he went down, Scott dove on top of him to keep him there, but Scott was up against a hardened street fighter. Paco growled and flipped the violinist off in an instant.
Meanwhile, Manuel appeared, his gun drawn and pointed at Scott. Rose wasted no time in bringing her crutch down on his arm. She heard the crack of a breaking bone and saw the weapon fall to the floor, but it was kicked by Paco as he struggled with Scott. Her attention momentarily diverted, she didn't see Manuel strike out with his good arm, connecting the back of his hand with her cheek. The force of the blow knoced her backwards, against the wall.
Just as Lia's fingers closed around the first gun, an ear-splitting shot rang out. Her senses registered a solid thud nearby and she saw the bullet lodged in the floor inches away from her. She froze, not daring to twitch.
Scott and Rose likewise stopped their struggles. Jose still had a bead on Lia. "Drop it, or you're dead," he said through clenched teeth.
Very slowly, Lia pulled her hand away. She never took her eyes off Jose as she sat back and waited.
"It's broke!" Manuel yelled, holding his right arm against his torso and grimacing in pain.
Paco got up and kicked Scott hard in the stomach, doubling him over in breathless agony, before turning his wrath on Lia. He jerked her up by the wrist and twisted her arm, pulling her close enough to backhand her across the face. Next thing he knew, he was doubled over in pain from a well aimed knee.
Terrified, Lia backed herself into the nearest corner, prepared to protect herself as best she could. "Leave me alone!" she warned.
Enraged beyond reason, Paco charged her, pinning her against the wall. "You bitch!" he yelled in her face. "I'll teach you to mess with me!" He kissed her maliciously as he grabbed her blouse and ripped it open.
With a savage growl, Scott launched himself at Paco and hauled him away from Lia. Another gunshot followed and Scott felt the hot sting as the bullet ripped into his upper arm. He nearly blacked out as the pain flared into an inferno. He heard Lia yell his name as he sagged against the wall and slumped to the floor.
With murderous intent, Paco retrieved his own gun from the floor and cocked the hammer.
"Don't do it, Paco," Jose warned, shifting his aim to his companion. "They ain't no good to us if they're dead."
"We'll still have her." Paco indicated Rose, who was watching the scene with horror.
"I'm still in charge, and I decide when somebody dies." He glared at Scott. "That was stupid, man, real stupid."
"He's bleeding." Lia stated the obvious. "If I don't stop it, he'll bleed to death."
"Maybe I should let him," Jose threatened.
"What about my arm?" Manuel complained. "They broke it!"
"Then they'll fix it, right?" He regarded Rose.
"I can set it," she agreed.
The phone was ringing at the nurse's station. Jose told Paco to go answer it and tell them everybody was still alive, for the moment. When Paco was gone, Jose went to Scott. "Next time you try something, I'll let Paco have his fun with her, got it?"
Through the haze of excruciating pain, Scott nodded. "Yeah, I got it."
Jose turned his gaze on Lia. "Patch him up, but do it slow and keep your hands where I can see 'em."
Ben and Mickey were still arguing when the first report pierced the air. The noise of the crowd fell to silence as everyone turned their attention toward the hospital. Seconds later, the second shot was heard. Ben was already calling inside. "Damn it! What's going on in there?" he bellowed.
Just when they thought the phone would go unanswered, Ben stiffened as someone picked up. He held a terse conversation, then hung up. "Get me the mayor," he called to Nora. Then he turned an unreadable gaze on Mickey. "I was hoping things would cool down, but it sounds like the hostages tried to escape. If I heard the perp right, Scott's been shot, but he's okay for now." Ben shook his head in frustration. "I don't think I've got a choice. What's your plan?"
Helping Scott to his feet, Lia took his pulse while they were herded into another examination room. "Thank you," she whispered quietly, looking up into his eyes with heartfelt gratitude.
Scott smiled through gritted teeth. "It was worth a try."
"Quiet," Jose ordered. He sent Paco to keep an eye on Rose while she put a cast on Manuel's arm.
"The bullet's still in there," Lia announced after checking the wound. She looked up at Scott, but he was studiously staring at the wall. Only then did she realize her torn blouse was failing to maintain her modesty. Blushing, she donned a lab coat and buttoned it securely. "I need supplies," she informed Jose.
"I see bandages and tape. Use what ya got, Doc."
Indignant, she strived to remain calm. "I have to get the bullet out, or infection with set in. I need to give him an antibiotic and something to numb his arm."
Jose stepped closer to Lia, but she didn't back down. "I coulda let him bleed to death, remember? If it ain't in here, you don't need it."
"Lia," Scott called, trying to avert further confrontation.
She turned to give him a regretful, angry frown. "Lie down," she ordered gently. "You're liable to pass out. I'll have to immobilize your arm."
With a grimace, Scott nodded. "My whole arm feels numb," he told her, worried. "Could there be permanent damage?"
Understanding the source of his concern, she smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. It won't feel numb in a minute."
"Gee, thanks."
"Seriously, I don't see any reason for you to worry. It'll take time to heal before you'll be back to 100%, but with proper physical therapy, it shouldn't be long."
Jose grew impatient. "Shut up and get to work," he ordered with a menacing growl.
Lia worked as carefully as she could, but every time Scott reacted in pain, she blamed herself. Unfortunately for her, Scott maintained consciousness until she was almost through. By the time she finished the last suture, her forehead was glistening with sweat. She sagged with relief. Feeling his forehead for any indication of an infection induced fever, she was glad to find it normal to her touch. Her fingers trailed lightly across his cheek, before she turned to the task of cleaning up.
"How long's he gonna be out?" Jose asked.
"I don't know," she snapped at him.
He grabbed her by the arm. "Don't push me, Doc. The only reason I haven't let Paco have a go at you is you stitched me up. I'm starting to forget that."
"He'd have to kill me, first," she vowed.
The door swung open and Paco shoved Rose into the room. She looked from Scott to Lia. "Is he okay?" she asked, controlling her alarm.
"I had to work without any anesthetic or antibiotic," Lia informed her with frustration. The two doctors shared a look of professional indignation just as Scott began to stir.
Agitated, Paco moved to Jose's side. "Now what? We still don't have a plan to get outta here."
"I'm working on it," growled Jose. "We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't blown away a cop."
"I didn't mean to!"
"Good luck telling that to a jury." Jose motioned to his captives. "Everybody out." They all moved to the E.R. waiting room where Jose picked up the phone.
Nora took the call. She covered the mouthpiece. "Ben, they're getting hungry and impatient."
"Where's that unit we sent for the food?" he asked.
"Here, Sir," an officer replied, carrying several plain brown boxes.
Ben sighed with relief and grabbed the phone. "This is Carroll. The food just arrived. Send someone out for it."
Jose snorted derisively. "No way, man. You send someone in with it, and he better not be armed."
Ben gave Mickey a thumbs up. "Okay, but you have to let him leave again."
"Look, cop, we're calling the shots, here. He comes, he stays."
After a theatrical hesitation, Ben dropped his voice conspiratorially. "Look, friend, I'm trying to help you out, but I got brass breathing down my neck out here. They'll never let me give you another hostage unless I get one back in return... say, the wounded man."
Jose looked his prisoners over. "I'll give you the older doc, but this better not be a trick."
"We won't try anything as long as you have one of my men," the lieutenant promised.
"The cop brings the food in first, then I let the lady go."
"Come on, Jose. Work with me here. We'll do a swap just like on TV. I'll send him in at the same time you send her out."
Jose considered the plan a moment. "Okay, cop, you got a deal." He hung up, strode over to Rose and hauled her up. He put his gun to her abdomen. "Tell 'em I'd rather die here than the gas chamber. Tell 'em I'll take everyone with me. Got it?" He squeezed her arm until she winced.
"Got it," she assured him. She gave Scott and Lia a concerned glance before she was dragged over to the door. Jose cracked it open. "Okay, where's the cop?" he bellowed.
Mickey stepped out from behind a patrol car. His hands were full with the boxes of food. He was glad there was a Coke machine inside so he didn't have to manage drinks as well.
"Turn around, slowly!" Jose ordered.
Mickey turned, allowing Jose to look for hidden weapons. Rose stepped out and Mickey nodded at her. They started walking toward each other, and a strange look came over her face as she stared at him, trying to remember where she'd seen him before. They were about to meet halfway when realization dawned. "Robert's friend," she whispered.
He met her gaze, confirming with his eyes, but nothing more.
"Get them out of there," she pleaded as she continued on by him.
Mickey reached the door which opened to allow him inside.
"Don't move a muscle," Jose warned, his pistol poking Mickey's ribs. Paco grabbed the boxes and started ripping off the tops while Manuel and Jose worked together to search Mickey. Satisfied, they hauled him over to Scott and Lia.
To cover his surprise at seeing Mickey, Scott went into a coughing spasm. Lia turned with concern and reached for his wrist to take a pulse. She then felt for a fever for the tenth time in as many minutes. Scott knew she was just nervous, and he honestly didn't mind all the attention she was giving him. Paco had found the handcuffs used on Jose and put them on Scott, as though he was in any shape to put up another struggle.
Mickey started to sit down beside Lia, but Jose shoved him over and pointed toward Scott. "There," Jose said.
"Name's Mickey," he informed Scott for appearance's sake. "You okay?"
"I've been better. This is Lia." Scott indicated her. "She's one heck of a doctor."
Mickey nodded at her. The three captors were mostly preoccupied with eating, so Mickey lowered his voice. "Your dad's on the way. He and Nick are bringing these bozos a helicopter."
Concerned anger flashed in Scott's eyes. "We can't let them get away!"
"Don't worry; they won't. We have a plan."
Somewhat reassured, Scott gritted his teeth as a sharp ache shot through his limb. "I won't be much help," he confessed glumly.
"Just keep yourself and the doc out of the line of fire."
"Scott?" Lia gave him a questioning look.
"Mickey's a friend. We're going to be fine." He was feeling much better already, he winked at her.
She smiled back at him and reached over to take his hand.
Mickey noted the exchange with some interest. She's not a blonde and this isn't what I'd call cutting loose, but I guess you can't have everything.
"Ben, the chopper is leaving Santa Monica now, ETA ten minutes."
"Good." He picked up the phone. After several rings, Jose answered. "I have an offer," Ben started. "I can give you a helicopter with enough fuel to get to Mexico, but you have to leave the civilians behind. The officer who brought the food is a licensed pilot."
"Are you jerking my chain, man? You gonna let us go?"
"I want those hostages back... alive. Do we have a deal?"
Jose hesitated. "I dunno. I gotta think."
The line went dead, and Ben began watching the sky for the approaching aircraft. He hated handing control over to two strangers, but they seemed to have a viable plan and came with their own resources.
Robert McCall adjusted his airspeed as he sighted the hospital helipad. He glanced at Nick in the passenger seat. "I can't guarantee you'll get this bird back in one piece," he said into his mike.
"Just get your son out of there in one piece, Robert. I don't give a damn about anything else."
"At least Rose is safe," McCall commented, though learning Scott had been shot was eating away at him. No one as yet knew how badly he'd been hit. Rose probably knew, but things were happening too fast. They hadn't been able to talk to her yet.
"This associate of yours is taking a big risk," said Nick.
McCall nodded in agreement. "Yes, he is. He's the only one I'd trust to pull this off."
"What if they don't take the bait?" asked Nick as Robert settled the machine onto the pad.
"Then we'll implement Plan B, as soon as I come up with it."
Why don't you call them back?" urged Ryan, another of Ben's close associates. We're running out of time." He tapped his watch for emphasis.
Ben shook his head. "I can't give them the impression we're on a schedule, or they'll smell a trap. We have to sit tight."
Nora called from the front of the communications van. "Ben, McCall wants an update."
"Tell him we're still waiting. Get him off the helipad. If they go for it, we'll need to move fast."
She nodded and turned to relay the message.
"What're we waiting for?" demanded Manuel. "Let's get outta here before they change their minds."
"Somethin's wrong," Jose insisted. "They're givin' in too easy."
"I'm with Manny," Paco announced. "I say we take our chances. I wanna get outta here, too."
Jose grappled with his conflicting desire to flee and his instinct to be cautious. "Okay," he agreed at last, picking up the phone. "It's a deal," he informed Ben. "I better not see anybody in or near that chopper or your man is dead, comprende?"
"No one will try to stop you as long as you leave the other two behind."
"They're goin' to the helicopter with us. If it's clean, we leave them. If not..." He let the threat hang.
"I understand."
"Come on," Paco dragged Scott to his feet, grabbing him by his injured arm.
Scott paled from the shooting pain, but he clenched his jaw and endured it.
Jose took Mickey, and Manuel brought up the rear, escorting Lia. They made their way to the elevator which would take them to the helipad. Everyone tensed as the doors opened on the roof of the parking structure, but no one was in sight. Jose, Paco and Manuel moved nervously, watching for any possible snipers. They thoroughly checked the aircraft, then Manuel and Paco climbed into the back, keeping Scott and Lia standing as human shields. Mickey settled into the pilot's seat and waited for Jose to get in beside him.
Back on the ground, Ben checked his watch anxiously. "Hurry it up," he muttered.
"Okay," Jose told his companions. "Let 'em go and shut the doors."
Robert had left the engine running, so Mickey was ready to take off. He wasn't crazy about the pistol aimed at his head, but he pulled back on the stick and left Scott and Lia safely behind.
"Head straight south, and no funny business," Jose ordered.
"Anything you say," agreed Mickey.
"Next stop, Mexico!" Paco yelled victoriously.
As soon as the aircraft soared away, Lia ran to Scott and hugged him in relief. Though worried about Mickey's safety, Scott couldn't help but be distracted by Lia's touch. Feeling her cheek pressed against his, her arms around his neck, Scott cursed the handcuffs that kept him from returning the embrace. Without thinking, he kissed her on the cheek. She pulled back, startled.
"I'm sorry, I..."
He didn't have the chance to continue when Lia engaged him in a deliberate kiss on the mouth.
"Scott!" McCall yelled, emerging from the fire escape stairwell.
"Dad!"
Lia stayed protectively by Scott's side until the older man reached them, then backed off discreetly as Robert carefully expressed his relief with a fatherly embrace. "How's the arm?" he asked, concerned.
Scott looked over at Lia and stepped closer to her. "Dad, this is Lia. She's the doctor who patched me up."
McCall grasped her hand firmly in both of his. "My dear, are you all right?" McCall noted the nasty bruise on her face.
"Thanks to Scott. I'm afraid he was shot protecting me." She unconsciously pulled the lab coat a little more tightly around her.
Beaming with pride at Scott, McCall nodded. "That's my boy."
"Aw, Dad," Scott moaned and rolled his eyes.
Mickey was just flying past the Los Angeles International Airport, where all flights had been put into a holding pattern to allow them by, when Jose yawned. "Man, I'm beat. How long'll it be before we reach Mexico?"
"'Bout an hour, maybe a little more."
Opening his eyes wide and struggling to do so, Jose yawned again. "Hey, Paco," he called over his shoulder. "You take over while I get some shut eye." Glancing back at his friends, he found them both sound asleep already. "Hey, Paco! Manuel!" he yelled angrily. Then realization dawned. "You drugged the tacos!" he accused groggily.
With one hand on the pilot's stick, Mickey grabbed Jose's arm and pointed it toward the window just as the gun went off, blowing a hole in the side of the helicopter.
An adrenaline surge fought with the sleep-inducing drug Jose had ingested, allowing him to nearly wrench free of Mickey's grip.
Taking a huge gamble, Mickey let go of the stick and gave Jose an elbow in the face. It took all his strength to regain control before they all plunged to the ground. "Actually," he told the unconscious punk, "it was the salsa." With a crooked smile, he turned the craft around and requested permission to land back at the hospital.
The elevator opened, and Ben hurried out, followed closely by Nick, Rose, a pair of nurses with a gurney, two uniformed officers and a couple who turned out to be Lia's parents.
Ben carried a hand-held radio, and he was listening carefully to it. Suddenly he broke out in a mammoth-sized grin. "They're all out cold! He's on his way back!" he yelled jubilantly.
A cheer went up from everyone, then Rose and Lia insisted that Scott lie down on the gurney and be delivered back to E.R. for further treatment. He relented only after Lia threatened him with a well-placed shot of penicillin if he didn't behave.
After a round of specialists poked and prodded, they assured both Scott and his father that Lia's prognosis had been correct. There would be no permanent damage.
Scott was describing the botched escape attempt to his father when Mickey poked his head in. "Just thought I'd check in before I catch my plane."
Scott waved with the unbandaged arm. "Thanks, Mickey, for everything."
Robert just gave his friend and associate a nod which conveyed his gratitude.
Before he left, Mickey gave Scott a half-grin. "I bet they could use another violin player out here, somewhere."
Embarrassed, Scott couldn't help but smile back as Mickey disappeared.
"Bye! Thanks again!" Lia called down the hall as she backed into the room seconds later. She then turned her attention to Scott. "Your room is all set. They'll be here with a wheelchair in a minute."
Scott groaned. "I feel fine," he insisted. "I don't need to be 'observed' all night."
Robert edged toward the door. "I think I'll go find a cup of tea in the cafeteria before it closes," he explained.
"Coward," Lia teased with a smile.
"Don't let him bully you," he whispered loudly.
"Lia, really, this is ridiculous," Scott pleaded.
She shrugged. "Don't talk to me. I'm not your attending physician," she announced, sitting down beside him on the bed.
"You aren't?" A disappointed frown filled his face.
"Dr. Phillips is taking over, and he says you stay put for the night. I'm only a second year resident, and even if I wasn't, I'd still have to remove myself from your case."
"Why?"
She looked him directly in the eyes. "Isn't it obvious, Scott?"
"No," he insisted. "Give me a clue."
"You want a clue?"
"Yes."
She leaned down and kissed him again, only this time there was more than gratitude and relief behind it. "How was that?" she asked with a coy grin.
"I think I'm getting the idea," he admitted, "but I'd like a few more, please."
They were interrupted by a nurse's aid with a wheelchair. "Maybe later." She squeezed his hand. "Get some rest tonight. I'll stop by to see you in the morning."
The mansion were Rose and her adopted sisters grew up had plenty of room for Scott to roam around in while he recuperated. Six weeks had passed since the emergency room crisis, and he'd attended physical therapy three times a week to rebuild the strength in his arm.
Concentrating, Scott sat at the grand piano in the main salon, playing a phrase over and over, trying different tempos and slight variations in the pattern. He stopped to make a notation on the paper in front of him when Lia strolled in.
"It's ninety degrees, the beach is packed, and so's the picnic basket. Let's go." Shorts and a sleeveless shirt showed off shapely legs and slender arms. A slight french braid captured all but a few unruly wisps of hair. She looked at the piano and Scott, and her playful mood turned more serious. She ran a hand over the dark wood of the instrument. "You miss being able to practice your violin, don't you?"
He shrugged. "I can play a little more every day before my arm gets too tired. It won't be much longer."
His announcement, instead of cheering Lia up, seemed to have the opposite effect. "That's great," she stated without an abundance of enthusiasm.
"Yeah. I'll have to work hard to be ready for work."
Lia couldn't meet Scott's gaze. "So... when do you leave for New York?"
A smile tugged at the corners of Scott's mouth. He took her hand and pulled her down to sit beside him on the piano bench. "I have reservations on a flight next Friday."
"That soon?" She was unable to suppress her disappointment.
"Well, that barely gives me enough time to pack my stuff before the end of the month so I can save on rent."
"Pack?"
"And then I have to be back in time for my audition."
"Audition?"
"Of course, I can't impose on Aunt Rose and Nick forever, so I was hoping you'd help me look for an apartment, assuming I get the job."
"Apartment? Job?" Lia stared at Scott, hoping she was jumping to the right conclusion, but waiting for him to confirm it.
"Hey..." He finally broke out in a wide grin. "How could I go back to living in New York when there are a couple of good reasons to hang around here for a while?"
Lia could barely contain her delight. "Good reasons? Such as?"
"Well, there's the weather."
"And?" she prodded.
"And... all the excitement with fires, floods, earthquakes, the occasional riot..."
"Scott!" she exclaimed in exasperation.
He gave her a straight-faced "what?" expression, then broke down and winked at her. "Gotcha."
They laughed together for a moment, then Scott pulled Lia into a kiss. "Are you really glad I'm staying?" he asked her afterwards.
"You have to ask?" She gave him an incredulous look. Her gaze then fell on the papers spread out in front of him. "What were you doing when I came in?"
Scott squirmed a bit uncomfortably. "I was just playing something."
"Would you play it for me?" she prompted eagerly.
"The piano isn't my best instrument. My teacher passed me out of pity," he hedged.
"Please, Scott?"
Her dark brown eyes seemed to engulf him, and he heard himself agree. He turned to the keyboard and drew a deep breath. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
He started playing a soft, lyrical melody, intricate in its composition, yet possessing a simple elegance that was enchanting. Lia closed her eyes and concentrated on every nuance of every note. The tempo picked up, and she found herself tapping her toe to the rhythm, but still she could hear the original tune being carried through and expanded upon. A lively crescendo faded back into a repeat of the opening strains, and the song came to a satisfying end.
"That was the most beautiful thing I have ever heard," Lia breathed reverently. "I can't believe I don't recognize it. Who's the composer?"
"You really liked it?"
"Yes! I loved it!"
"Wait 'til I can play it on the violin. The melody is really better suited for it."
"Scott?" Lia began to put the pieces together. "Is this what you were just playing?" She pointed at the hand-written musical score.
"Yeah. So?"
"So... you wrote that music? You composed it?"
He shrugged modestly. "It still needs some work. I was planning to surprise you with it after I polished it up a bit."
Her eyes grew wide. "You wrote that for me?"
"I want to register it under the title 'Theme for Lia.' Would you mind?"
She never uttered a word, but Scott got the message, loud and clear.